


Across The Stars

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, Imagination, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark sends an interesting tweet, but how can Fernando reply when he is on a Twitter-Off?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tweet

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic was inspired by Mark Webber's tweet about Ferrari and Le Mans on the 22nd December 2013 (tweet in italics within fic). The tweet is a direct quote and I do not own it.  
> Initially, this was just going to be a drabble about how Fernando reacted to that tweet, but I kind of got sidetracked.  
> The title of this fic is inspired by an instrumental piece of music from Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones. The music shares the same name as this fic. I also do not own this.  
> I do not own anything apart from the plot and my own feelings (which are shared in the beginning of this fic) and these events are not real.

Fernando looked at the tweet. He blinked. Maybe it was the years Mark had picked. Maybe it was the thought of joining him again after Formula One. Maybe it was the precept of thinking about his future. All he knew was he didn’t want to be thinking about it now, but the notification on his phone that let him know Mark had tweeted had brought all of those thoughts to light. Here Fernando was, trying to prepare for the 2014 season, and Mark had thrown this into the works. 

@AussieGrit: Great to hear that Ferrari looking to return to Le Mans racing too??? Driver line up for 2015/16 @alo_official and @ValeYellow46 #willwork

One thing was clear from this: Mark was going to miss Fernando next year. 

But what was waiting for Fernando after Formula One? How many more years did he have left? Would he want to leave on his own terms like Mark or would he wait until he passed his peak so much no one wanted to sign him? No, that definitely wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to go out with the respect he currently held. He wanted to be remembered as someone great not someone who lost their touch. So how many years did that give him?

He wanted to win at least one more world title before he was done. He wanted to see his name on the Ferrari’s great list. And hey, he had broken one German’s rein before in the past, why couldn’t he do it again? He had faith in himself and faith in Ferrari that they could deliver together. And he wasn’t planning on leaving until, as a pair, they had secured that elusive crown. 

So what was Mark thinking? 2015? That gave him one more year in the sport. Nineteen more races as a Formula One driver. And something about that seemed rushed. Because if Ferrari and he could do it in 2014, what is to say they couldn’t in 2015 and/or 2016? The possibility was endless when they produced a package that could win. Ferrari and Fernando Alonso. How he longed to steal both trophies and the glory from Red Bull and Sebastian Vettel. And that set determination made him believe he had more than one year left in him. 

Now Mark had gone, Jenson, Kimi, Felipe and Himself were the oldest drivers on the grid. And Fernando believed Jenson would still be around for a couple more years at least. Fernando himself was only Thirty-Two. Mark was now Thirty-Seven, closer to Forty than Thirty. It made sense why now was a good time for Mark to leave; teams still wanted him and he was closing in on that spectrum where they wouldn’t. And maybe it was just the shitty luck and car he had had this year, but Jenson seemed to have fallen out of love with the sport a little this year. A confirmation he didn’t reckon he would make it to three-hundred races was a little shocking to Fernando; considering he had already started two-hundred and forty-seven. Three more seasons and he would pass the British record. But Jenson didn’t think he would. 

That thought, of all, frightened Fernando. Jenson was only a year older than him and he didn’t think he would be here in three seasons time. The panic was sitting comfortably on Fernando’s chest. Because what did that mean for him? Were Fernando’s own days numbered? He had two hundred and sixteen starts himself. Did that mean he was never going to get to three hundred? How many more seasons did he have to chase down that uncatchable World Championship? Or was it right that he should bow his head now and admit defeat, claim it will never happen?

No. He couldn’t do that. 

Fernando suddenly became angry at Mark. Because Mark had left it had forced the rest of them into the spotlight, questions about their age being aired. Mark was fine, Mark was clear and out of the water. No one cared if Mark was good enough for Formula One anymore because it was no longer relevant. But for Fernando it was the most relevant point of them all. Was he, Fernando Alonso, still good enough for Formula One? Or was that the reason behind him being evaded of that third World Title? Did he have the skills to continue competing?

They all seemed like stupid questions to him. Of course he was still good enough. Weren’t all of the top teams still fighting to get him to drive for them? Weren’t Ferrari so afraid of upsetting him they were trying to rein him back, keep him from moaning to those around him and spreading that possibility of him leaving again? 

No. He was safe for now. 

Whilst his skills were still good enough any team would want him. He was the only driver currently to still be able to take the fight to Vettel. 2010 it was down to him and Mark, 2012 there were three points in it (thought he didn’t think about 2012 too much; the wounds were still too fresh), and this year, 2013, he had been the only driver in the end with the mathematical possibility of beating the German. Even if it had been only a mathematical possibility. So he was relaxed by that thought. The thought he was still wanted. He sighed as he shut off his phone, trying to force away the underlying tone of Mark’s tweet. He crossed his lounge and found himself standing outside under the stars. It had just gone ten in Spain when Mark had sent his tweet. Fernando left his thoughts of the future locked safely in the back of his mind and looked up at the stars. 

They seemed to present a connection between Fernando and the rest of the world. Like everyone who walked out their house now and looked up would see the same stars as him. And across these stars, somewhere, Mark was probably sitting with Ann; talking about the future or the crap TV they were watching. Or maybe they were discussing going to bed or sipping on a nice bottle of red wine in candlelight. Or maybe, just maybe, Mark was in his own part of the world, looking up at Fernando’s stars too. That thought made him smile. 

It was clear Mark was still thinking about him. Maybe he was thinking about the things Fernando had said before he climbed into his Red Bull cockpit for the last time. Maybe those words Fernando had braved in Brazil were burning through him every time he saw something red, or heard a Spanish word. Fernando wasn’t ashamed about what he had said. He had meant it. And because of that fact, why would he ever be ashamed? Nothing would ever come of his words, but he was relieved to have them off his chest, shared with someone who could possibly understand. 

Fernando walked out into his garden and lay on the grass, pretending – like he had become accustomed to doing – that Mark was there with him. And what would Mark be saying as they lay on the grass together? Would they be close or would there be space between them? Would the look at the stars or each other? For now, Fernando was looking at the stars; the way their light seemed to fill him with energy and determination. Mark would have been looking at him, Fernando thought. Yes, Mark would be trying to read Fernando’s face and see what he was thinking. But Fernando wouldn’t tell him. Fernando smiled as he would have done if Mark were there. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Mark would have requested. Fernando turned and looked at the empty span of grass beside him, envisioning the Australian beside him, who would be on his side now, propped up on an elbow. 

“Why do you always want to know?” Fernando smiled, speaking out loud to Mark even though he wasn’t there. Mark would have shuffled closer at that point, brushing his knee against Fernando’s. Fernando touched the point where they would have made contact with his fingertips to make the illusion more real. 

“Because I can’t read you. And you’ve got that look on your face.” Mark would have smirked. Fernando leant up and rolled on his side, moving and stopping, as he would have rested his forehead on Mark’s. And Mark’s strong façade would melt away as Fernando kissed the tip of his nose, Fernando was sure. Because Mark had told him once how insecure his age made him feel in their sport. Fernando had told him, at the time, he was being stupid; he was great and always would be. But he found that nervous side of Mark appealing and wished everyday that he would be able to take that side of the Australian and build it up until it matched his macho exterior. 

“What look?” Fernando whispered seductively to the air he was leaning on. And Mark would have swallowed nervously at that point, a small blush creeping on his skin. And Fernando would push one of Mark’s hands into his hair, as he did now with his own, encouraging Mark to do what he wanted to. And even though Fernando believed he would be the strength in their relationship, he would let Mark control; Mark would hold the power. Something Fernando could never envision himself doing. 

And after a while of holding Fernando like this, Mark would push back on him so Fernando fell gently on the grass. As Fernando rolled back down onto the carpet of green, he let his eyes close. Believing his own hands were Mark’s, he acted out what Mark would do from this point. A slow but arousing brushed of his fingertips all the way down Fernando’s side, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. And his other hand still resting on Fernando’s cheek. Fernando kissed it lightly and encouragingly as his other hand gripped onto his hip, drawing small patterns on the sensitive skin until Fernando shivered. Mark would know how to make Fernando melt. 

Dasha knew exactly where she would find him. Or, she knew he would be in one of three places: the spare bedroom, the lounge or the garden. She crossed through the lounge quickly upon realising he wasn’t there and looked out of the French doors. On the grass again. And Dasha sighed. Because she knew she would never be enough anymore. Even though Fernando lied day in and day out, claiming he still loved her, she knew. Maybe it was just because he knew he wouldn’t see Mark like he used to, but Dasha was sure this was a long-term feeling. She watched him talk to himself for a moment and pity pulled at her heart. Because Fernando was and always would be a dreamer. And here he was, pretending Mark was beside him. Again. Just as he did every night. 

She wondered what had sparked it tonight. Last night it was the article he had found about Mark’s test day with Porsche. Fernando had disappeared to the spare bedroom and pretended to be talking to Mark about his day. She had left him and gone back to find him four hours later curled in a small ball clutching a pillow, he had twisted on its side, tightly. She didn’t have the heart to move him. The night before it had been a text. Fernando and her had been watching a film in bed when it came through. Fernando claimed he was going to the toilet but when Dasha finished watching the film alone she knew he had gone again. He was in the lounge, curled around a couch cushion with his phone resting next to his face. That night the real Mark was filling his side of the conversation. Dasha slide open the door and stepped into the night. 

“Fernando?” She called softly. Fernando let his eyes open and return to the stars. His illusion shattered and the dreaded truth that Mark wasn’t here pouring from his bones and infecting his entire body. He sat himself up and crossed back into the house. Dasha remained at the doorframe, preventing him entry. “What were you doing?”

“Looking at the stars.” Fernando smiled, kissing her forehead lightly. Fernando made it too easy to believe his façade of love and Dasha found herself melting into his touch. 

“Why?” She asked, not daring to un-bury herself from Fernando’s shirt. Fernando wrapped his arms around her as his eyes returned upward, taking in the natural night-lights that decorated his sky. The very same that decorated Mark’s. Fernando smiled. 

“Captivating.” He stated, rubbing Dasha’s back. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her closer, wishing that somewhere across the stars Mark was thinking of him. And he knew, for once, his wish was coming true. All because Mark had sent that tweet.


	2. The Other Side of the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another part of the world, Fernando's wish is coming true.

Mark lent on the rail of his balcony and just looked up. He hoped Fernando loved Ferrari enough to want to stay even after Formula One. And then they could race against each other again. And that would be perfect. Brazil had been too good; if he had had any option to he would have changed his mind. Stayed. Just for races like that when he could be wheel to wheel with the Spaniard. En Rouge filled his mind and he smiled in the starlight. Something very captivating about the distant stars made him study them, looking up as if they were trying to deliver some kind of message. Maybe the distance he felt from them emulated his distance he felt from Fernando. Mark sighed, letting the words he had said in Brazil echo through his mind. 

“I will always miss you and our fights on track. I wish you a good final race. I suppose nothing can ramify from telling you this, but I have always loved you, Mark. Even if I never showed it. I always have and I always will.” 

From the cover of his cap and the protection of the Ferrari escort who had been walking Fernando around, Fernando had finished his speech with a gently, soft and fleeting kiss on Mark’s neck. Mark’s fingers found that spot and touched it gently, just as Fernando’s lips had. And Mark sighed again, reliving that moment. If only Fernando had told him earlier. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe they would be together and not apart. Maybe Mark wouldn’t have his phone clutched so tightly in his hand in the fear he would miss it’s signal that Fernando had responded to him. 

But Fernando hadn’t wanted anything to ramify from his words…Did he? But Fernando had still told him. Even if just to know that he had passed on that information. Mark now knew how Fernando felt about him. Why those secret jokes and subtle smiles were saved only for him. Why he sought Mark out after a bad race, or even after a good one. Even if just to go for a drink where Mark would gulp down at least four beers whilst Fernando took it slow on a couple of cokes. Mark couldn’t recall a time he had seen Fernando drunk. Not even when he had won his World Championships. Drunk on adrenaline and happiness, yes. That was always what he had put Fernando’s kiss down to on that night after the Chinese Grand Prix in 2005. But now he knew better. 

He felt stupid for missing the signs. But maybe it was never meant to be. Maybe Fernando was supposed to stay in Formula One and Mark was supposed to slip away from him. Fernando would marry Dasha and Mark and Ann would be invited along. But how could Mark just sit and watch now, knowing the only reason he was marrying her was because Mark had never shown any emulation of his feelings? Mark kicked the rail he was leaning on in frustration. The pain shot through his toe and he held back a curse. But it was his fault. Fernando had slipped away from him because he had let him. And now he wanted him back. Badly.

Ann wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind him. He had been leaning on the rail and so was the perfect height for her to rest her head on his shoulder. She could sense his sadness and built up frustration. She had sensed it since he had returned from Brazil. She kissed his neck in the same place Fernando had, but Mark closed his eyes, pretending it was the Spaniard. Too little hands brushed his cheek and shattered the images he was formulating in his mind. Mark opened his eyes and turned around, holding Ann’s hips. 

“Are you alright?” Ann asked, holding his face. Mark nodded but she didn’t seem convinced. “That’s why you’re kicking things then?”

“Just had a thought,” Mark sighed, letting go of her and turning back to the stars. 

“Are you going to share it?” Ann asked, moving closer to Mark and placing a hand on his shoulder. Mark sighed as his eyes brimmed with tears, his focus unmoving from the stars about him. As Fernando had described them to him once before, they were truly captivating. 

“No.” Mark said bluntly. Ann was a little taken aback by his tone, but she accepted it. She expected it from his current mood. 

“I have some good news,” She stated, moving beside Mark and mirroring his position. Mark still didn’t look at her.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” He asked sweetly, sounding interested. Ann smiled and turned to face him. 

“I got you a ticket for a Grand Prix.” Ann smiled. Mark still didn’t look at her. 

“Wonderful.”

“Would you like to know which?” Ann smiled, feeling like she was about to deliver the best news in the world. Mark frowned but still looked at the stars. 

“Shoot.”

“The Spanish Grand Prix.” She declared. Mark finally looked at her, but he looked at her like she was insane. “It gets better.” She smiled wider before Mark could interrupt. 

“How?” Mark said, the starlight twinkling in his eyes. 

“You’re going to be a Ferrari VIP.” She smiled. Ann wasn’t ready to be lifted from her feet and spun around. She couldn’t help but smile wider as Mark’s happy laugh filled her ears. He set her down and kissed her gently. 

“That’s fantastic.” Mark smiled, hugging her tightly. 

“And also,” Ann said, rubbing his shoulders in a motherly fashion. Mark looked up at her like an eager child. “For pre-season with Ferrari.”

“You’re the best.” Mark said, pulling her close again.

“I thought you might say that.” Ann laughed. Mark let her go and she moved back into the house. “I’ll leave you with your stars.” Ann said in a knowing tone. Mark frowned at her but as she disappeared from sight he turned back to the stars. Unable to now rid the smile from his face, he let his imagination run at the prospect of seeing Fernando again so soon. And that made him wonder. Wonder about himself, wonder about Fernando and especially wonder about Ann. And her knowing smile. She couldn’t possibly understand how Mark was feeling if he didn’t know himself… Right?

Mark sighed as he looked back at the stars, hoping somewhere; they were captivating Fernando too. He suddenly couldn’t wait for 2014…

-End-


End file.
